


The Many Roads of Love

by willowsandwonders



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, self doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:11:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8449312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowsandwonders/pseuds/willowsandwonders
Summary: Ray just can’t shake the idea that Ryan could do better, or at least better than a boyfriend that says shit like “Good joke, man,” when Ryan says he’s his favorite person.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Or, the one where Ray doesn’t realize that everyone shows their love in different ways

    So, the thing is, Ray’s not sure if he was ready to move in with Ryan. Not like he’d tell him that--Ryan had been  _ so  _ excited, and would probably blame himself if he knew about Ray’s hesitation. 

    It’s just--it’s stupid, really. At first it had been the challenge of getting used to having someone else  _ always  _ around. Of having to make sure not to turn the TV up too loud after Ryan goes to bed. Or that he can’t just eat whenever he feels like, or take random naps, because someone’s schedule is tied up in his own now. But they work around that pretty well after a few months have gone by, he thinks.

    The problem lies in the fact that they’re just...not the kind of couple that lives together. For starters, Ray is horribly introverted, Ryan only marginally less so, which means that for the most part they don’t really  _ go  _ places to hold hands and be romantic. Their dates  _ used  _ to be going over to the other’s apartment, maybe to the movies, but now they don’t even get the thrill of seeing each other after a few days. 

    And Ray just  _ can’t _ do that thing where they pass in the hallway and share a quick kiss. Just, why would he do that. The one time Ryan tries, Ray mumbles something about cooties and speed-walks away. 

    But the more he really looks at the problem,  _ his  _ problem, he comes to an uncomfortable realization. The issue isn’t with Ryan, or how the two of them work together, it’s with  _ him. _

\---

    What Ryan deserves is a partner that can be sincere with him, actually express that they give a shit, and maybe somehow match his levels of Shakespearean sappiness. What he gets is Ray. Who, he might add, didn’t even really _flirt_ with Ryan in the first place, leaving the poor guy to do all the work himself. He just sort of gave Ryan access to things about his life, opened up in tiny little ways that weren’t significant to anyone else. Ryan somehow knew, though, and that was Ray’s first sign that Ryan was a better partner than he ever could be.

    So either Ryan has low standards, or he fucked up by choosing Ray. Like, he kind of gets why Ryan seemed pretty content with their previous arrangement, when they weren’t up in each other’s spaces all the damn time. Ray could be a pleasant companion for a couple hours, could be funny and listen to what Ryan had to say, even if none of that was anything special. But they didn’t have to  _ live together  _ for him to do that. 

    They still have movie nights, or impromptu video game duels, all of which he can  _ do.  _ But when Ryan calls him dear, or makes him breakfast in bed out of the blue, or buys him a sweet little gift when he goes to the store because it reminded him of Ray, well. He really can’t compare. 

    Like right then, for instance, when Ryan hums happily and shifts his arms where they’re draped over Ray’s shoulders. Ray’s fine with touchy stuff when they’re alone, and technically they are, but his stream is running and something under his skin shivers at the idea of all those people  _ watching  _ them be this sappy. He’d switched the webcam off as soon as he heard the door to his office opening, hoping that Ryan wouldn’t notice. He had, of course, but he seemed to be content just to bury his face in the crook of Ray’s neck.

    Which, fucking adorable at any other time, but he’s  _ working  _ and can’t relax into it right now. 

    “See you after,” Ray mumbles away from the mic, hoping Ryan gets the hint. 

    “I look forward to it,” Ryan says, sweet as honey like fucking usual, and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. He has to tense all his muscles to keep from scrunching his face up. 

    He clicks the webcam back on when he hears the door click shut. 

    “Sorry, blowjob break,” he says to the stream with minimal strain in his voice, all things considered, and feels his heart clench against all his failures. 

\---

    The pattern continues, Ryan doing something that’s fine,  _ normal  _ for any other couple, and Ray blowing it off. He tries to make up for it in his own little ways, letting Ryan take first pick of the show they watch over dinner, making sure that when he puts the dishes up he does it in the system Ryan likes. Little things that pale in comparison to everything Ryan does for him.  

    At night he holds on to him a little bit tighter, letting the other man’s heartbeat reassure him, because the horrible thought of ‘ _ what if he leaves’  _ sprung into his head and won’t get  _ out.  _

    Ryan runs a soothing hand down his back every time, like fucking clockwork, and somehow that makes it even worse. 

\---

    Ray doesn’t realize it’s their one and a half year anniversary until around three a.m the morning of. He’d passed out on the couch with a game of Dead Rising up. His character has long since died, but his phone hasn’t, because Past Ray is a fucking asshole who set an anniversary alarm that just reads, “yo asshole its 1 and ½ years w/ that guy”

_ Shit.  _ What is he even supposed to  _ do  _ for a half anniversary? It’s not as huge of a deal as the first six month anniversary, but still enough of a thing that he should at least  _ try  _ to make it special. 

    The three a.m wake up call is a double edged sword. Good, because he has more time before Ryan gets up, but bad in the sense that his plan had been not to sleep ‘til around, well, now, and stay in bed till noon. So he has, what, maybe two hours of accidental couch-sleep to run off of? He chugs a Monster to counteract that. 

    And then he remembers exactly why it’s a bad idea to drink that shit on an empty stomach and spends the next hour alternating between pacing the apartment and organizing and reorganizing his graphic novels, twice, just to burn off the excess energy lighting up his veins. 

    Ryan gets up around seven, what with his bullshit normal job, and Ray kind of panics. He all but throws himself onto the couch and pretends to be asleep because he doesn’t have a  _ plan  _ for this. 

    It takes all of his willpower to stay still when he hears Ryan moving around him, going about his morning routine. It’s even harder when he hears Ryan stop in front of him, then feels him gently tug off his glasses. Then he pulls the throw blanket up over Ray, turns the lamp off behind him, and it’s all Ray can do to stop himself from getting up and kissing him. 

    Instead, he does his best to play statue until he hears the door shut and the lock click.

    The apartment’s already clean enough, but he vacuums anyway to burn off the last of the energy drink jitters. Then he dicks around in Stardew Valley just to kill a few hours. When no anniversary ideas miraculously spring into his head he says fuck it and starts streaming. But the earlier start time means he finishes way before he normally does, and he’s too out of sorts to make it one of his longer streams.

     So he ends up quite pathetically curling up in the window seat and watching the cars go by. He fiddles with the strings of his hoodie, fiddles with his hair, just--

     He’s a fucking horrible boyfriend, case and point. 

\---

    Ryan gets home later than usual, just in time to walk in on Ray failing epically at making dinner. He’d figured that pasta would be pretty easy, just chuck it in some boiling water and wait it out. But he put way too much in, he thinks, and now there’s this horrible lump of the stuff in the pot and not enough water, and if the horrible burning smell is any indication it’s gonna catch on fucking fire any second now,  _ holy shit-- _

__ “What are you  _ doing? _ ” 

    Ray jumps back from the pot, swiping a jar of tomato sauce off the counter in the process. He’s already screwed his eyes shut like that’ll stop what’s happening, but he hears it shatter, can envision just fine the gigantic mess he’s just made.

    “I’m cooking, what does it look like?” He keeps his eyes shut, but Ryan sighs and he can practically  _ see  _ the disappointed look on his face. 

    “It looks like you have glass all around you, don’t move.”

    Ray doesn’t, gripping the counter behind him for dear life. He opens his eyes and stares down at the splash pattern of tomato sauce on the floor as Ryan leans around him to turn the stove off. 

   “We can just call in some pizza,” Ryan offers as he starts cleaning up the mess of glass and sauce around Ray’s feet. He could’ve fucking cried.

\---

    Ray tries to make it up to him over dinner, turning on Star Trek because he knows Ryan had been meaning to rewatch it for the past couple of weeks. He’s not sure what to say about the failed dinner thing, or if thanking Ryan is worth bringing up the whole debacle again. And when is he supposed to say happy anniversary? Probably not while he’s half in Ryan’s lap stuffing his face with pizza. 

   They’re maybe halfway through the third episode when it becomes impossible for Ray to keep his eyes open. His meager amount of sleep had started catching up to him by the second one, but now he just slumps against Ryan, content to fall asleep there. There’s something important he’s forgetting, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

    “Hey,” Ryan murmurs, “hey. Let’s get you to bed alright?” 

     Ray makes a grumbling noise in the back of his throat that hopefully conveys the  _ fuck off  _ his mouth is too tired to form. 

    “I know, I know. C’mon,” Ryan says, and suddenly Ray’s being pulled all the way into his lap, face against his chest. And that's nice, comfy, but then Ryan’s arms wrap underneath him and he's standing, the world tilting vertical in a way that makes Ray grumble again. 

    Time fades into a background buzz. He registers with passing awareness being set down on the bed, of Ryan moving around and lights turning on and off. The mattress dips next to him and he rolls over towards the vague direction of Ryan. 

_ It’s their year and a half anniversary.  _

__ The adrenaline rush is enough to rocket him up into a sitting position, eyes wide open. 

    Ryan sits up beside him, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

    “It’s our year and a half,” Ray says in a rush, too panicked to think of a more romantic way to say it. It’s Ryan’s turn to startle awake.

    “Oh  _ shit _ \--Ray, I am  _ so  _ sorry, it totally slipped my mind, I just, it’s been so busy and I--” 

    Ray blinks. “You _ forgot?”  _

    Ryan looks stricken, and Ray goes to reassure him that it’s  _ okay _ , really, but all that comes out is a startled laugh.

    “In your defense, I only remembered ‘cause of a reminder on my phone. Tried the pasta dinner thing, and that fucking failed, so it’s basically like I forgot too.” He grins, probably freaking Ryan the hell out by this point, but he just can’t believe that for once in their relationship  _ he  _ was the one who remembered a special day.

    Ryan shakes his head. “Hey, the pasta thing wasn’t a failure, you did your best--”  _ Did his best.  _ The elation fades when he remembers that even if he  _ did  _ know it was their year and a half, he still  royally fucked it up. 

    “That’s what they tell people when they’re a failure,” Ray mutters, but Ryan presses on.

    “It was  _ sweet _ , if a little surprising, and I’m  _ so _ fucking sorry I forgot, I really am.” He shifts on the bed to face Ray better, and the sudden scrutiny  _ almost _ stops him from saying the words bouncing around his head. 

    “Dude, it’s  _ fine. _ ” He drops his voice to a mumble, “Probably would’ve been better off if I’d forgotten too.” Ryan’s eyebrows almost vacate his forehead by how quickly they shoot up. 

    “How so?” 

    “Whatever, it’s stupid anyway.” He resolutely stares at the door, blurry without his glasses, but fleeing to the living room isn’t worth having to see the look on Ryan’s, albeit blurry, face if he tries. So, might as well give him an answer.

    “All I did was fuck it up, man. I can’t--I can’t  _ do  _ all that romantic shit you do for me all the time.” He huffs out a breath. “So it’s okay, really. We can celebrate it over the weekend, if you want, or we could just--” 

    He’s interrupted by Ryan pulling him into his lap for the second time that night, almost bumping their noses together. This close he can see all the tiny details of Ryan’s face again. 

    “You did great, Ray.” He gives him a little peck on the cheek. Ray totally doesn’t flush a little bit, doesn’t have to bite his lip to stop himself from calling out Ryan’s bullshit. 

    Apparently he’s not done, though. 

    “Not everything has to be some grand, romantic gesture. I love you because you’re  _ you,  _ Ray.” He pauses, running a thumb down Ray’s cheek. “You hear me?  _ You. are. wonderful. _ ” At each inflection he presses feather-light kisses down his cheek, and, okay, Ray’s probably blushing for real now. 

    With the adrenaline fading, sleep starts tugging at his eyelids again. He leans forward, face burying into the crook of Ryan’s neck. Ryan runs one hand down his back, the other through his hair.

    “Hey, Ray?” 

    “Mm?” 

    “You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me, you know that?”

    “Right back at you, buddy,” Ray whispers, and falls asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> The working title for this was "An Impastability" and I'm sorry, but thanks for reading! I had a ton of fun working on this story


End file.
